Really? What did you say? I was surprised by the question. Here was mom asking her one-year-old genius if he wanted to play with the eyeballs. ... Naturally, I was very curious. But there was a reason she was asking. I knew this woman. Nothing was ever left to chance. So I sat there waiting to learn.
The next day, I was asked to return. Our son and his wife are moving. They have been packing, taking stuff to storage or placing boxes into the cube in their driveway, painting and repairing. Staging will come next. They are being advised, every step of the way, in this modern world of real estate. The better the product shows, the greater the exposure might be. The real estate market place tells the truth. Our opinion is usually over inflated.
So here I am watching the four-year-old and one-year-old. I'm not sure if I am in their pay grade, however. "Does water with sand, in the combo sand/water box, need to be mixed till there is a flood?" Just ask the four year old, Oscar. He says yes. Something about a house, two or three garages and a massive pond. I just don't get it. But I write it down. I must write it down. I am a front row witness to on-the-spot learning.
Mom needs to see this. I ask several questions of this 4-year-old master creator. He continues to tell me more as the intensity of his focus continues. It's about the water and tracks in the mud, all needing a big or massive pond. He moves the heavy duty truck creating a road for the tracks that appear. I do not understand fully. But my job is to ask not to explain.
I write and write. My new tablet, a gift, is not here. I'm sorry but I'm from the generation that uses pen and paper. (That'll suffice for the time being, thank you.) I'm in a hurry. The child does not wait. Leave him alone. The scientist inside of him is working fervently.
The mind of a child works very quickly. I can't keep up. (Do your best, I remind myself). I'm not a stenographer, however, just a grandmother or baba to him and his younger brother. He is putting more tracks in the sand box, having added lots of water everywhere. Where is Oscar going with this? Do I have enough paper? Do I have enough time? Can I write fast enough? Mom needs to know.
Their level of expertise is compelling. Stay out of their way. I am slowing them down if I don't. The intellect is taking flight. My only job is to ask the questions, not give the answers. My answers are irrelevant, pointless, of no value, anyway, in this moment of creative story telling in the valley of water, sand and mud. ... I hurry along. These two surpass my pay grade. Dad, where are you? I need your guidance here!
In this moment of reflection, I see my provocative young grandsons immersed in creating, living in the moment. Who said that child's play is not important? It is the pinnacle of learning, a place to see, hear and experience what the child is doing, up close and personal.
Experiences of childhood are built, one step at a time, moments scaffolded one upon another, reflecting higher order thinking at its best. It is to see the human mind at work. I'm one lucky girl in the front row seat of the future.
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